Married To The Devil's Heir

The door jerked open the instant Ivy turned the key.

She froze on the threshold, grocery bag still hooked over one arm, staring at the two men standing in her brother's living room like they owned it. One of them had Leo by the collar, shoved back against the wall, his sneakers barely touching the floor.

"Let him go." Her voice came out steadier than she felt.

The man holding Leo turned his head, slow, unbothered. "You must be the sister."

"I said let him go."

"Ivy, don't." Leo's voice cracked. "Just go, get out of here, I'll handle it."

"You'll handle it." The second man laughed, short and ugly. "That's cute. You had two months to handle it."

Ivy set the grocery bag down without looking away from them. Her hands trembled, but her spine stayed straight, the way she'd learned to stand when landlords threatened eviction or collectors called for the fourth time in a day. Still. Calm on the outside. Let them think stillness meant she wasn't already calculating exits, distances, whether the kitchen knife block was close enough to reach if this went the wrong way.

"How much," she said.

The man let go of Leo's collar. Leo dropped, catching himself against the wall, gasping.

"Forty thousand," the man said. "Plus interest. Plus the two months he didn't pay. Call it fifty five."

The number hit her like a slap. Fifty five thousand dollars. She made eleven dollars an hour filing hospital records. She could work every hour of every day for the rest of the year and not touch that number, and they both knew it, which was exactly why they'd said it out loud instead of demanding it.

"We don't have that," she said.

"We know." The man smiled, and it was the smile that scared her more than anything he'd said so far. "That's why we're not here for the money anymore."

Leo pushed himself upright, one hand pressed to the wall. "What does that mean? What is that supposed to mean?"

Neither man answered him. They were looking at Ivy.

"There's a family," the first man said. "Runs this whole side of the city. They bought your brother's debt an hour ago. Every cent of it."

Ivy's stomach dropped. She knew that phrase. Everyone in this neighborhood knew that phrase, the way you knew not to touch a hot stove, the way you knew which streets to avoid after dark. Bought your debt meant somebody with actual power now owned you, not some low level collector who could be argued with, stalled, avoided for another week.

"Which family," she said, though some part of her already knew, already felt the answer settle cold in her chest before he said it.

"The Crosses."

Leo made a sound like he'd been hit again. "Oh, god. Ivy, I didn't know, I swear I didn't know who I was borrowing from, some guy at a bar said it was easy money, no questions, I didn't know it would end up like this, I swear to you..."

"Leo." She kept her eyes on the men. "Stop talking."

"Smart," the second man said. "She's smart. That's good. Because here's the thing. The Crosses don't forgive debts. Ever. But they're feeling generous today."

"Generous," Ivy repeated, flat.

"There's a way to clear it. All of it. Tonight." The first man reached into his jacket, slow enough that she didn't flinch, and pulled out a folded card. He held it out to her, not to Leo. "Mr. Cross has a proposition. For you specifically."

Ivy didn't move to take it. "Why me."

"Because your brother's got nothing they want. You, on the other hand." His eyes moved over her once, assessing, and it made her skin crawl in a way that had nothing to do with attraction and everything to do with being catalogued, priced, filed under an asset column. "You're the one with something to offer."

"I'm not for sale."

"Nobody said sale." He set the card down on the counter instead, since she wouldn't take it from his hand. "It's a marriage proposal. The heir needs a wife. You need your brother alive. Everybody walks away with what they need."

The room went silent except for Leo's ragged breathing.

"Marriage," Ivy said, like the word didn't make sense in her mouth. "To who?"

"Kade Cross." The second man said it like it should mean something to her, and it did, in the way a loaded gun means something even to someone who's never fired one. Everyone knew the name. Nobody who wasn't already inside that world had ever actually met him. "Heir to the whole empire. His father's been asking around for a wife with no connections, nothing traceable, nobody who'll cause trouble for the family name. You fit."

"And if I say no?"

The first man's smile didn't waver. "Then your brother's debt gets collected the old fashioned way. Tonight. Right now, actually, if you want to test us."

"You don't know anything about me," Ivy said. "How am I supposed to marry a man I've never met, for a family that just threatened to kill my brother in our own apartment?"

"You're not supposed to like it," the second man said. "You're supposed to survive it. There's a difference, and most people figure that out eventually."

"What happens to Leo if I say yes."

"Debt's cleared. In full. He walks away clean, no more calls, no more visits, nothing. That's the deal. Mr. Cross doesn't do half measures." The first man tilted his head toward the card still sitting on the counter. "Read it if you want. Doesn't change the terms."

Leo lunged forward. "Don't you touch her, don't you dare..."

The second man backhanded him without looking, almost bored, and Leo hit the floor hard, blood already welling at his lip.

"Stop!" Ivy was across the room before she'd decided to move, dropping to her knees beside her brother, one hand pressed to his jaw, checking, shaking. "Leo. Leo, look at me."

"I'm fine," he ground out, though his eyes were unfocused. "I'm fine, don't, Ivy, don't do this because of me, don't you dare do this because of me..."

"Shut up." Her voice broke on the second word, the first crack in her composure since the door had jerked open. She looked up at the men standing over both of them like this was nothing, like this was Tuesday, like they hadn't just put a price on her life in the same breath they'd bloodied her brother's mouth. "How long do I have to decide."

The first man checked his watch, unhurried, like a man with all the leverage in the world, because he was.

"Car's outside at midnight," he said. "You get in it, or your brother doesn't see tomorrow. Your choice. Not really much of one, but they told me to call it a choice."

"What if I need more time."

"You don't have more time. That's the whole point of tonight." He crouched, just slightly, so he was closer to her eye level, and dropped his voice like he was doing her a favor. "Smart girl like you, you already know what you're going to pick. You're just not ready to say it yet."

He straightened, tapped the folded card on the counter once, and both men walked out, leaving the apartment door hanging open and Ivy kneeling on the floor with her brother's blood on her hands. She had six hours to decide whether to marry a stranger the whole city feared, or lose the only family she had left.